Maturation Gone Wrong
by octopusrocktopus
Summary: Hermione Granger considered herself to be a rather mature person- Unfortunately for her and Snape, her magic disagrees. Now Snape is forced to enter her mind in a bid to put things right, while Hermione tries to rationalise the errant thoughts of Snape swirling around in there. A coming of age story involving a rather miffed Hermione and a typically snarkey Snape. AU 7th year
1. Chapter One

AN: This is my first crack at writing fanfiction, so any feedback is greatly appreciated :) AU premise where the trio undertake their 7th year, and Snape is alive

*

Hermione Granger fell into her seat with a barely muffled groan. It was the last class of the day, a double potions with Slytherin. Normally a double potions would earn the title of "Worst Class of the Day" by default, given the ingrained and almost permeable hatred Professor Snape had for any Gryffindor student, but apparently Hermione had woken up in the wrong side of the bed this morning. Every class so far had ended up a disaster. In Transfiguration the unlucky witch had managed to half-transfigure her allocated chair into the back end of a donkey, which wouldn't have been so bad in of itself if said chair-donkey hadn't used its new found legs to kick her squarely in the stomach. After the toast and juice she had consumed at breakfast made their reappearance all over her table and books, Hermione had watched shame faced as Professor McGonagall put things right. Talk about making an arse of herself. Next had come Charms, usually her best subject, which had resulted in an explosion followed by a visit to the hospital wing. Bizarre, considering they had only been practising turning vinegar into wine, something she was quite adapt at. She had missed her Arithmancy class, despite avid protesting against Madam Pomfrey, and so now would have to catch up in her spare time. Suffice to say, her day was God damned awful, and the only silver lining to being in Potions was the knowledge that it was the last class of the week.

Hermione had no idea what was causing her new found clumsiness and inability to function as a normally competent 17 year old witch. All she knew was that when she had awoken this morning, something had felt _off_. It was as if her conscience was a step to the left of her actual body. Everything she looked at felt like it was silently screaming at her, or talking in all capital letters. How a door knob can scream at you she had no idea. Not to mention the tremors, her foot wouldn't stop jittering about, and it felt as though every move was made in fast jagged movements. She had a nearly uncontrollable urge to run to the library and gather any medical books in sight, in the bid to determine what was going on, but the fear of missing another class quelled the compulsion. When she could focus her mind properly on her current environment, Hermione had to admit to herself that potions was probably the worst thing she could be doing right now, especially under the scrutinising view of one Professor Snape.

Snape stalked into the classroom, preceded by the ominously loud bang of the dungeon door slamming against the wall behind it. Hermione buried her head in her hands, feeling as if the noise was bouncing around the walls of her fragile skull. _'What the hell is wrong with me?_. Snape swept to the front of the room, turning to pierce them all with his rather withering gaze as his robes settled around him gracefully. _'Gracefully? Can anything be considered graceful when it comes to Professor Snape? Although he does glide when he walks/(stalks). And his movements seem very fluid. Did something just move in the floor?._ She leant to the side of her desk in an attempt to see the stone floor through the feet, table, and chair legs, completely oblivious to the instructions Professor Snape was giving.

"You will be brewing the Elixir to Induce Euphoria." With a flick of his wand, the instructions appeared on the board behind him. "When brewed correctly, it can produce a sense of irrational happiness, and has been known to cure depression."

"Maybe we should slip some into the greasy gits coffee." Muttered Ron obnoxiously, leaning towards Harry. "-might make him more bearable."

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Weasley" Snape drawled. "And detention I think, Saturday morning." Ron looked outraged, a splotchy red flush spreading to his ears.

"But that's the day Gryffindor play Ravenclaw!"

Snape's eyes glittered rather evilly as he replied. "Is it? Then hopefully missing it might cause you to think before you speak in future, though I won't hold my breath. It wouldn't do to die of asphyxiation. Now be silent Weasley, I would hate to deduct further points." As it was clearly evident deducting further points is exactly what Snape wanted to do, Ron audibly swallowed his next words and kept quiet.

"Bad luck mate." She heard Harry whisper.

Throughout this encounter Hermione continued to surreptitiously inspect the floor, certain she had seen something move. So engrossed in her search as she was, the hapless witch failed to notice she had gained the Professors attention.

"I would hope that as seventh year students, I will not have to stress the importance of remaining focused on your preparation. If you require a refresher on rudimentary safety precautions, Miss Granger, I am sure it can be arranged. Through an afternoon detention, perhaps?"

 _Shit._ "No sir, sorry sir, I'll pay attention sir." _'Three sirs? Shut up Hermione!'_ Snape sneered at her disdainfully as she snapped upright, straightening her cauldron unnecessarily. He stopped short of deducting any points. The Granger had always been an acceptable student, gaining mainly O's and E's in his class. He grudgingly admitted that, despite being a Gryffindor and an insufferable know-it-all, she was one of the more bearable students he currently had to teach.

"Then ensure you pay attention Miss Granger, my leniency only stretches so far." Her breath left her chest in _whoosh_ of relief. Gaining detention would be the icing on the proverbial shit cake of a day she was having. "You may begin." He commanded the rest of the class.

Gathering the required ingredients, Hermione read through the instructions on the board. ' _Slice shrivelfig. Can't be that hard.'_ Concentrating on preparing her ingredients, Hermione tuned out the chatter and noise from the students around her. Glancing at the board again she read to the end, noting that when complete the potion should resemble a sunshine yellow. _'Yellow. Sunshine yellow. Why does yellow smell like jasmine?'_ In her current state, the fact that a colour had a smell did not appear to be irregular. As she sliced the shrivelfig she glanced to her right. Ron was attacking his potion preparation with a fever, tongue poking slightly out between his teeth as he added ingredients somewhat haphazardly. Under normal circumstances Hermione would be supervising Ron's work. Potions was definitely not his strong suite, and experience showed he quite easily brew something dangerous by accident. As it was, she left the task to Harry. She was in no state of mind to be helping others.

Snape was making his rounds of the classroom, stalking between desks and peering into cauldrons, making scathing remarks where required, and keeping silent otherwise. Despite losing sight of him, Hermione practically felt a physical force when he paused behind her, leaning forward to glance into her cauldron. "Miss Granger, your sopophorous beans should be crushed, not diced. It amazes me how you are able to ignore clear instructions after spending seven years undertaking my class." The words practically dripped from his mouth and onto the table before her, landing there accusingly. A distinctive smell of herbs, wood smoke, and a hint of aftershave washed over her senses, causing her mind to blank as the air between his chest and her back fairly pressed against her. A shiver ran through her as gooseflesh broke out. Her breath hitched as the hair on her arms stood on end. _'What the fuck? What is this?_. In her short seventeen years of life, it was safe to say Hermione had yet to have this reaction to another person. The fact that it was Professor Snape that caused it was absolutely baffling.

"I'm sorry sir," she whispered, "I can't help it. There was a donkey in Transfiguration and an explosion in Charms, and now yellow smells like jasmine and I keep slicing the stupid shrivelfig in squares. My potion feels like a cylinder and everything keeps shouting at me and there's something in the god damned floor." _'Good Lord Hermione, would you shut up? You're making it worse!'_ She felt Snape pause behind her, as if momentarily unsure. Snape drew breath to speak again, and Hermione was certain she was about to find herself with at least a detention. She was therefore thoroughly shocked when the professor suddenly snatched her arm, pulling her off her seat and throwing her behind him. Utterly stunned, Hermione looked up (and up, good lord just how tall _was_ Professor Snape?), trying to decide whether she should be outraged or not when she caught sight of Ron's cauldron. Unbeknownst to her, and evidently to Professor Snape, Ron's overzealous administrations to his potion had gone horrible wrong.

Her eyes widened as she saw a thick, oily smog roll from the tip of the cauldron, quickly oozing its way across the desk and down to the floor. The repugnant smell near about choked her, causing her to gasp and draw a dreadful lungful of the gas into her chest. Her eyes watered and her nose ran as she hacked and coughed, trying to draw in clean air. It felt as though the noxious smog coated everything it touched, from her mouth to her lungs. There was a tremendous roaring sound engulfing her ears, pounding through her skull, her chest was beginning to compress like the air was being crushed from her lungs. She felt her grasp on reality slipping away, dimly aware of the rest of the students hastily beating a path from classroom, and heard Snape spit out words that caused the gas to vanish. Closing her eyes, Hermione sucked in a great lungful of clean, crisp, air with relief.

Shortly after she felt cool fingers prying an eyelid open. It appeared she was on the dungeon floor, lying flat on her back. The blurry vision of Professor Snape slowly swam into focus. His hair falling forward like a curtain around his face, eyes slit with fury. Behind him bobbed distinctive black and read blobs that could only be her friends. "Miss Granger, are you injured?" ' _Would it hurt him to sound concerned at all?'_ She mused.

"I must be a giraffe."

"Granger, this is not the time or the place for riddles. Are. You. Injured."

"You don't understand, I have to be a giraffe. How else could I fit all this pain into one neck?" _'That made sense, right? That was something plausible to say in this situation, surely.'_ She heard Snape sigh in frustration. If he strangled her it would probably hurt worse, maybe she should just keep quiet.

"It appears I will have to levitate you to the medical wing, Miss Granger. Do not move. I will not be responsible for any further damage you inflict upon yourself." With a flick of his wand she gently rose into the air and began to trail after him to the door. As she floated in mid-air, Hermione caught sight of the dungeon floor once more, and let out an exclamation of surprise. _That's_ what she had been seeing!

"Oh do be careful Professor, there's sharks in the carpet!"

*

Severus Snape heard the insufferable Weasley boy snort with laughter. "Sharks in the carpet? She's gone bloody bonkers, the dungeons don't even _have_ carpet." His irritation grew as he snapped at the dunderhead.

"Mister Weasley, twenty points from Gryffindor for reckless endangerment of a student, and detention for the rest of the month. You will both remove yourselves from my sight before I deduct any further points for general idiotic behaviour." Severus stalked from the room, smirking at the indignant splutter emitted behind him. The Granger girl floated along obediently as if pulled by an invisible rope. Snape was decidedly unimpressed with his day. His morning had started unpleasantly, and his afternoon was ending unequivocally worse. He had awoken from an uneasy sleep to a feeling of _wrongness_ in the air. Severus was well acquainted with feeling large magic's, it came hand in hand with being a powerful wizard. What he was less acquainted to was feeling large magic's that were distinctly unbalanced. Usually when a staff member was working on something that required a lot of power they would advise the rest of the professors out of courtesy. Projects that required that much energy could be very volatile, and easily influenced by other magic's used within the vicinity of it. In any case, Snape was certain the feeling couldn't be attributed to a fellow professor's project; they were generally only undertaken during school holidays when students were less likely to cause unwanted results. Probing a little further into the feeling, he had come to the conclusion that it couldn't a project; the sense of wrongness felt more like a single concentration of chaos.

Pushing his thoughts to a side, Snape had gone about his day. He had succeeded in ignoring the anomaly for the remainder of the morning, only to have it hit him in the face like a troll swinging a club after entering the dungeon classroom for his seventh year double class. He surreptitiously scanned the students as he laid out the instructions for the day's potion, happily deducting points from Gryffindor as he did so (a not so secret guilty pleasure of his). He was almost certain he had pinpointed the source of the disruptive magic the moment he saw Miss Granger leaning sideways out of her seat, looking oddly at the floor. He began his rounds of the classroom, slowly making his way over to Granger. Snape finally positioned himself behind her, bushy brown hair nearly obscuring his view of the entire cauldron. Leaning slightly forward under the pretence of inspecting her potion, the probed the aurora of magic crackling around her. It was definitely her. ' _Interesting.'_ He mused. He insulted her potion to garner a response, and was slightly confused when she visibly shuddered, ' _Am I really that repulsive?_ Engrossed as he was in confirming his suspicion, Severus failed to notice the disaster being concocted besides him until it was well and truly too late.

When all was said and done, Gryffindor were down a further twenty points, and a Ronald Weasley had a months' worth of detentions to look forward to. After hearing Hermione Grangers' rather unhelpful warning about carpet-sharks, Severus had also confirmed his theory on why the young witch was exuding such an aura of confusing magic. Stalking through the hallways and leaving a wake of scattered students behind him, he thought over what this would mean. While it pleased him that Severus had discovered what had been bothering him so intently this morning, it by no means pleased him that it would likely fall to his hands to fix the problem. That was the problem with being the only professor, other than Dumbledore, proficient in the art of Legilimency. With a resigned sigh, Severus directed the floating body through the doors of the hospital wing and onto an empty bed. It appeared his weekend was going to be a long one.

Hermione fought her way towards consciousness, batting away clouds of muffled confusion to dredge her eyes open and take in her surroundings. ' _White, everything's so white. Oh, Madam Pomfrey, must be the medical ward.'_ "Hello Madam Pomfrey." The words clawed their way from her throat and came out awkwardly. Merlin did her throat hurt. Madam Pomfrey looked up from the potion she had been measuring out and gave a warm smile.

"Good afternoon Miss Granger." Hermione frowned as the medi-witch spoke. The words curled from her mouth and unfurled, like they had been written on ticker-tape. "Severus, your student has awoken." The healer called over her shoulder. Again, the speech came from her mouth as if written on paper, and drifted down behind her back. _'Well that can't be normal,'_ Hermione rationalised, ' _I wonder if I could collect the words and keep them for later?'_

"Miss Granger, how do you feel?" Severus watched her as he spoke, noticing the way her eyes focused first on his mouth, and then drifted away, as if following something only she could see.

"Oh Professor, I'm sure I would be feeling just fine, if everyone wasn't sub-titled. Is this a side effect from Ron's potion? I shouldn't complain, I really do love reading, but it's hurting my brain a little, trying to listen and read at the same time." As she spoke her cupped hands moved about the space before her, as if she were trying to catch a trickle of water.

Madam Pomfrey turned to the Potions Master, looking slightly confused. "Could the potion have caused this Severus? It's not something I can say I've come across before."

A look of resignation and irritation flittered across Severus's face before it smoothed out once more. "If you run a diagnostics spell on Miss Granger here, I'm almost certain you will find she has very recently started the maturation process. From what I can gather, something has caused it to deviate from its normal process. It appears as though her senses are bleeding into each other, causing visual and audial hallucinations. I will need to see her once she has recovered from Weasley's unintentional poisoning. She will require the walls around her senses to be rebuilt, to stop the leak."

Hermione listened to this distractedly, as she was more concerned with the amount of paper the words spoken required. _'Oh dear, this could be a problem. Imagine being in the great hall with all the chatter, I'm fairl_ y _convinced I would drown!'_ She also took note that the writing on Professor Snape's tape appeared written in an elegant and thin cursive. Madam Pomfrey's on the other hand was bolder.

"Miss Granger, you will report to my office 7pm tomorrow night. Do not be late." With this, Snape swept from the room, leaving Pomfrey to deal the confused look the young girl threw her way.

With a sigh she moved forward. "Open up Miss Granger, this will help."

*

AN: whelp! First chapter down. I'll try and get the second one up over the weekend.


	2. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

 **AN:** Things are going to heat up a little bit here. Thank you for the feedback on the first chapter, it's very much appreciated! I'm also looking for beta readers, if anyone is interested :)

A somewhat bewildered Hermione was discharged from the hospital wing early Saturday morning. This was after being rather rudely awoken by the loud conversation occurring besides her bed. It appeared Ron was still upset about having to miss playing keeper on the quidditch team.

"It's ruddy unfair, is what it is! Dean isn't even any _good_ at playing keeper. The great bat must be well chuffed he's got me off the pitch. The only reason he chose today for detention is because he knows if Gryffindor lose the match, Slytherin are guaranteed the cup!"

"I know mate, but there's nothing we can do about it." Harry groaned. "I cornered Professor McGonagall last night to see if she could move the detention time but she said-" Harry paused as he noticed Hermione stirring. "Finally, she's waking up!"

Hermione struggled her way to consciousness only to realise the entirety of her flesh felt distinctly wrong. _"Oh dear,'_ she mused, ´ _These sheets must be made from sandpaper.'_ She focused on the two boys and gave a distant smile. Ron reached his arm behind his head and began to ruffle his hair.

"Oi Hermione, I'm dead sorry about what happened yesterday. I was so mad at Snape I must have stuffed the potion up. Madam Pomfrey says you should be all good now though, so no harm done hey! C'mon, get out of bed and lets head down to the hall, I'm near about starving." As far as apologises went, this was as good as a person could get from Ron.

Hermione sat upright before responding to Ron, ignoring the ticker tape words pooling at their feet. The sounds slow to leave her mouth, like they were made of clay. "It's Professor Snape, Ron, you shouldn't be disrespectful. Check the wardrobe for me Harry, I think I've left my skin in it." She looked at Harry expectantly.

"Uh, 'Mione? Are you sure you're alright?"

"Oh yes, I'm fairly sure. It's just these sheets feel all wrong, so I think I must have taken my skin off last night and hung it up. Will you check and see?"

"Oh bloody hell, she's gone bonkers. I mean proper bonkers, not Hermione I'm going to save the house elves bonkers. I better go get Pomfrey." Ron made a hasty retreat to find the medi-witch, leaving Harry to stare at Hermione in bewilderment as she silently contemplated how Ron's voice reminded her of Christmas cake, whilst Harry's distinctly felt like a warm cup of mint tea.

Fifteen minutes later Hermione was dressed and ready to head down to the great hall as the boys were thoroughly warned by Madam Pomfrey to keep a close eye on her. "She's going to be saying some interesting things today. It's nothing to worry about, Professor Snape will hopefully be able to set her to rights. Until then just keep an eye on her." Both boys looked a little awkward. It was usually Hermione keeping them from doing something stupid, not the other way around. They both thought this is was honestly a lot of responsibility to give them.

Ron glanced at Harry in distress, "Blimey, can you imagine how she's going to be with Snape? We're bound to lose the house cup this year for sure."

The rest of the day was rather uneventful. The only interesting thing of note was the new understanding Hermione found for Luna Lovegood. In fact, she spent most of the day under the tree by the lake with the blond Ravenclaw, discussing all manner of things. She came to the conclusion that Luna wasn't batty, as she had previously thought. She was, in fact, rather brilliant when you thought about it. She just hoped this new found realisation wouldn't disappear once Professor Snape had fixed her problem.

Seven o'clock that night found Hermione nervously pacing in a cold dungeon hallway. Every few steps she threw a panicked glance to the heavy wooden door. She swore she had never encountered a door that gave of such a foreboding feeling. Rationalising this reaction, Hermione knew ( _deep deep down_ ) that her raging emotions were at fault. _'I can't go in. How can I go in when I can't stop thinking these inappropriate thoughts? Maybe Luna was right and it is the wrackspurts.'_ She forced herself to stop walking, halting in front of the door. She could imagine the scene inside; Professor Snape bent over his desk marking papers, probably gleefully writing a damning 'T' with a flourish, his greasy hair framing his face. ' _Why is it greasy anyway? Is it the constant exposure to potions? The terminally cold dampness of the dungeons? And the nose! It really shouldn't be attractive, but now that I'm thinking about it, it is rather reminiscent of a classical Roman bust. I wonder if it would have been seen as attractive in those days? And the buttons. There must be hundreds. How many buttons does a garment need! How does he go to the toilet? I wonder if he spells them open when he has to change.'_ And now she'd done it, she was standing outside her potions professors' door explicitly imagining what he looked like in an undressed state.

It was at this moment, with her hands grabbing fists full of unruly hair and a look of sheer desperation and confusion plastered over her face that Snape chose to open the dungeon door. "Miss Granger, despite what you may think I do not have all night to wait around for you to gather the courage to knock. Now get inside and sit." The snarling voice pierced through her thoughts and cemented in her brain. She found herself sitting in the hard backed chair provided before noticing she had begun to move at all. Once seated Hermione watched as Snape stalked/(' _There he goes, gliding again'_ ) back to his seat, flicking his robes out before settling down. ' _I wonder if he knows how dramatic he really is? Only Snape could make dramatic work in his favour_ ' She glanced at the desk and nearly laughed out loud. The first scroll of paper on a sizeable stack had an obnoxiously large 'T' written in red.

"I believe Pomfrey has discussed with you the issue at hand?" She had, trying her best to explain a phenomenon called Maturation, a coming-of-age process young witches and wizards go through when their physical body and magical core synch together. It was also apparently the time a person became glaringly aware of their sexuality. Snape took her silence as assent and continued. "Then let me get straight to the point. I will use legilimency on you to create walls within your conscious, in essence isolating and containing your senses. As it is they are bleeding into one another, causing your current symptoms. I will need you to attempt to meditate before we begin. I do not relish the thought of entering your mind in its current state without you first trying to gain a semblance of organisation."

As he spoke Hermione noticed a change in his voice. It was less sharp, more melodic. She felt herself calming slightly. ' _I can do this. I just need to stop thinking of him as anything other than a teacher. A teacher with voice that feels like a hard shot of fire whiskey. And amazing hands. How have I not noticed them before? Gods imagine what those fingers could do…DAMNIT HERMIONE.'_ That was definitely more explicit that just imagining him naked. She forced herself to focus once again on what Snape was saying.

"You may find it easier if you create a setting for yourself within your mind. A place you would feel comfortable in. Now follow my breaths." She did as she was told, eventually finding herself standing by a stream in a rather beautiful glade, sunlight filtering through the tree branches above her. " _Breathe in-"_ she filled her lungs with the fresh air, "- _and out"_. Good lord this was bizarre, Professor Snape leading her through breathing exercises. Oop, and there he was, standing beside her. Was she imaging this? Surely he hadn't entered her mind just yet. ' _Oh yes, definitely imagining.'_ She was fairly certain the real Professor Snape wouldn't look at her like that, or be in such a state of undress. She felt her breath hitch slightly, and couldn't help but imagine how that voice would sound whispering dirty things in her ears.

"Do try to remain relaxed Miss Granger, I shall be beginning now." His sarcastic voice pierced the air around her. With a panicked yelp, Hermione shoved the imagination Snape into a wooden box, hastily throwing in any errant thoughts running rampant before slamming the lid shut. With a murmured incantation the real Snape entered her glade, glanced at her with indifference, and stalked out of sight. She had the unnerving sense of taking a back seat within her own consciousness as the Potions Master began to rifle through her mind. _'Oh boy, I'm in for it now.'_

Severus began to untangle himself from Hermione's mind. The walls were complete and his task was done, her senses no longer bleeding into one another. He came back to the glade and paused for a moment. It really was rather relaxing here. The glade had surprised him somewhat, knowing how much the Granger girl enjoyed her studies he had assumed she would have created a library. Looking around, his sharp gaze navigated to the witch in question. He gathered immediately there was something she was trying to hide. Not that it would have been difficult, someone as thick as Weasley would have clued on, considering she was doing her utmost to not draw attention to the wooden crate she was sitting very firmly on.

"Miss Granger, there is no point trying to hide things from me. I have already told you I have no interest in spending any more time than is necessary within your mind. I do not care what is inside the… _crate_." He emphasized the last word, enjoying the small jump it caused. He was being unnecessarily cruel and he knew it. Anyone versed in the skills of legilimency or occlumency knew that merrily thinking on what you were trying to hide would bring the object to the forefront. He rationalised to himself that toying with Granger was just a little repayment for the work he had just undertaken, not to mention the seven years of sufferance he had born.

' _Don't think about Snape. Don't think about Snape. Don't you dare imagine him naked again, or using those long fingers to- DON'T THINK ABOUT SNAPE_.' But it was much too late for that. She felt wooden crate rumble ominously before she was unceremoniously bucked into the air and dumped on her back, the lid flying off as she scrambled upright. She watched in horror as out stepped naked Snape, followed by flashes of damning image after image. There was the one where she had imagined the Potions Master whispering in her ear, another where his hands were in entirely inappropriate places, yet another where she was bent over his desk. Interestingly enough, there was also one where she had envisioned Snape gliding around the dungeons as if on skates, his robe billowing behind. Snape watched it all with a frozen face, unmoving for seconds that seemed to drag into an eternity, before he harshly severed the connection with her mind.

Hermione felt her consciousness snap back into focus with an almost physical force, and with it came the crystal clear clarity her mind had previously afforded before Friday. She froze, limbs locked in terror and embarrassment. She couldn't tear her eyes away from her professor's face as his expression shuttered between confusion and surprise, before going completely smooth once more. ' _Ohshit-ohshit-ohshit'_

"Sir I'm so sorry, I didn't mean... You weren't meant... Oh _fuck_." The distraught witch buried her head in her hands with a thump, utterly unsure about what to do. Merlin was she going to be in trouble. She didn't know if any student had lost house points and gained detentions for improper thoughts of a teacher, but she was certain if there was any professor to hand out the punishment, it would be the one seated before her. Hermione peered through her hair tangled fingers and glanced at Professor Snape. She saw him glaring intensely at the desk before him before his dark head gave a minuscule nod, as if he had come to a decision. His fathomless dark eyes snapped up to latch onto Hermione's as a contemptuous sneer crept its way across his face.

Hermione abruptly stood up, her chair letting out a harsh clatter as is fell backwards from the force. "I'm just... Sorry! I'll leave!" A tirade of nonsense continued to tumble from her lips as she spun and ran for the door, her stomach tying itself into knots. Her body slammed to a stop, almost involuntarily, as Snape's voice lashed out behind her.

"Miss Granger, you will stop at once." She held her breath as she heard the faint sound of him leaving his desk and walking towards her. She swore he was walking deliberately slow to torture her further. ' _I'm dead. And no one will ever find my body_.' Hermione felt the professor come to a stop behind her, felt the heat from his chest, felt his breath stir the hair by her ear, and electricity shot through her body.

"Well well, who would have thought one of the Golden Trio would lust after the 'greasy git' of a Potions Master." He sneered. "I wonder what your precious friends would think if they ever found out?" The words wound their way through the tangle of hair and eased into her ears. A blush worked its way from her chest to her cheeks as she panicked, but kept quiet.

He stepped around and came to a stop before her, still entirely too close for Hermione's comfort. "Silence, Miss Granger?" Merlin, the way he was saying her name. "This must be a first, the insufferable know-it-all rendered quiet." He closed the gap between them, making her step back. He noticed the way she shuddered when he spoke her name. "Should we tell them, do you think?" A smirk appeared at the terror that flashed across her face. Gods but this was a turn on. Another step forward, another step back. "Or perhaps we'll keep it our little secret." A look of hope. This was nearly too easy. He took one more step forward, forcing her to take one more back, only for her to be surprised when she found herself pressed flush against the cold dungeon wall.

"Please Professor..." Hermione had no idea on how to act. She gazed at his chest, only mere inches away from her. What was he doing? Why was he so close? She glanced up to see a look burning deep in his eyes that caused a fire to blaze within her stomach. "I don't know what you want me to do." Her voice was strained, tinged with confusion and desire. It was enough to break his control. He tore the hands that were still buried in hair and pressed them up against the stone wall behind her, claiming her mouth and the surprised gasp that left it.

He wasn't gentle, he was harsh and possessive and exactly what Hermione wanted—what she needed. His mouth slanted over hers again and again, their teeth clashing as he bit her lower lip. She opened her mouth the moment she felt his tongue press against her lips, letting him know she was his. It was as if her mouth was connected directly with the point between her thighs, and the blaze in her stomach felt as if it was about to burn her up completely.

And then it was over. With a sudden jerk Snape took a step back, cold air rushing in where a warm body once was. Hermione's brows snapped down in confusion as she nearly fell from the lack of support. Her arms dropped, throbbing from where her wrists had been ground into the stone. How could he still look so composed?

"What? Did I... Did I do something wrong, Professor?" She couldn't understand. She hadn't had much experience with kissing, but surely she wasn't that awful? There had been Krum after the Yuletide Ball, McCormick at Slughorns dinner party. Even Ron once, after a few too many butterbeers. Surely one of them would have mentioned if she was no good at it? She looked up at her teachers face, staring at the lips wet from kissing, and unconsciously touched her own. Snape rolled his eyes derisively.

"Miss Granger, I am not a gentle person. I do not 'make love'. I will not give you sweet words and loving hugs, and I will most certainly not sit and listen to your teenage woes after you've had a tough day. If that is what you are looking for, then leave these dungeons and head back to your precious Weasley." He paused as she soaked this in. "If you stay, we will fuck. Then you will leave, and we will never speak of tonight again." He watched her closely, saw how her breath caught when he swore, and knew before she did what her decision would be. "Make your choice Granger, I will not ask again."

She bit her lip, too shy to meet his eye, but not too shy to shake her head and stay exactly where she was. Snape's lips spread in the semblance of a smile as he closed the trap, stepping forward once more. "Then strip."

 **AN:** And there's the second chapter! I did that awful cliffhanger thing. One chapter left to close it out. I've read a lot of Snape fics where he's been portrayed as a sensitive lover, but it's never come off as believable to me. Snape is a big ol' loveable bag of dicks, and in my mind sex with him would be rough and wild. No apologies given!

If anyone would like to proof read the last chapter for me please let me know! It will probably need it, it gets hard trying to be objective about your own writing.

We're definitely going to be visiting Adultville in the last chapter, be warned.


	3. Chapter 3

_"Then strip."_

The words pierced through her shyness and caused her to freeze, too startled to even breathe, not that her lungs seemed to be working in any case. Her mind raced nearly as fast as her heart. 'What have I done? Hermione couldn't seem to move, couldn't make her hands twitch an inch, not that she would know what to do with them. The fire in her stomach flamed higher at the thought of being naked for him, but it warred with a very intense feeling of embarrassment. No one had ever seen her naked before. What if he found her ugly? Soft in the wrong places, and not in the right? What if he took one look and lost any desire to bed her at all? This was a horrible idea. Why would someone so obviously experienced want anything to do with her?

Severus could see the emotions playing across her face, plain as day. "And here I was under the impression Gryffindors were brave." He drawled, enjoying the blush that swept over her cheeks. With an exasperated sigh, Snape moved. He had her back against the wall and her legs around his waist before she could comprehend what was happening. His mouth covered hers, stealing the moan that escaped as he ground his hips against her. She felt him, the hardness of him, rubbing between her legs, hitting something she hadn't even knew existed as he moved, causing a frisson of electricity to shoot through her. Snape took note of the way she jolted and moved again, finding the spot that made her quiver. His long fingers threaded through the snarl of curls, entangling a handful and pulling her head back harshly, exposing her throat in a way that left her feeling almost afraid of what he would do. The heady mix of desire and fear coursed a path directly to her core. Her breathing hitched and stopped completely as he continued to move, rubbing against the nerve between her legs, the pleasure building and building until at the very height, his teeth latched onto her neck, causing an explosion that wracked her body in waves, leaving her pulsing and shaking against his lean form.

Slowly, after Hermione had regained most of her senses, Snape lowered her feet to the floor once more. "Now, if we're to continue any further, you will need to strip."

Hermione froze for what felt like the tenth time that night. How could she still be shy, after what had just happened? But the fact that he had made her feel like that in such a short time, only heightened the fear she had in her inexperience. Her professor quite obviously knew what he was doing, and she was worried that she would make a fool out of herself with her embarrassing lack of knowledge.

"Sir I... I don't know how... I haven't..."

 _Fuck, the bloody girl is a virgin_. It was just his gods awful luck, getting what had to be the only untouched student in the seventh year. He wasn't going to fool himself though, her status of being unsullied wasn't going to change his mind. In fact there was something a little thrilling about it. Imagining the look on Weasley's face if he ever found out just made it all the sweeter. The girl obviously wanted to be there, and had responded excellently to his attention already. He would just have to be a little gentler. He closed the distance between them once more.

Hermione watched him stand quietly, obviously gleaning from her ramblings just how inexperienced she was. As the seconds stretched out her worry grew. What if he kicked her out? What if she didn't get to feel that delectable passion again? She was so caught up in her silent struggles that she hadn't noticed her professors movements.

"Miss Granger, you have never been one that is slow to learn. I doubt this will be any different." And with that statement he kissed her again, his mouth devouring hers in slow movements, his tongue easing her lips apart only to plunge inside the moment they gave. She found her hands gripping the robes in front of her as she tried to get impossibly closer, tasting the coffee on his breath as it mingled with hers. The heat between her legs that moments ago had been forgotten about flared back to life with a vengeance, causing a moan to escape her throat.

She barely noticed as her professor began to undo her cloak, taking no note as it fell to the floor. She did notice however when she felt his cool hand slide up beneath her blouse, leaving a trail of fire blazing behind it. A gasp flew from her lips when his fingers brushed over the top of her breast, flickering ever so slightly over her nipple through the fabric of her bra. She suddenly came to the decision that being naked would be decidedly better. Stepping back from Snape she removed her top, pausing for a moment before unhooking her bra as well. Stepping out of her skirt and underwear, she finally looked up to meet Snape's black eyes.

He looked from the top of her head to the tip of toes, noting with a raised eyebrow that she had kept her socks and shoes still on. Merlin but she was near perfect. How had she hidden that for so long? The boys in her grade must have no idea, otherwise there wasn't a chance she would be standing in front of him right now.

"Even I would have to give an O for this, Miss Granger." He nearly rolled his eyes at the smile that broke out on her face. Forever wanting to please. He took her hand and led her to his desk, lifting her up without any trouble. The added height left her chest at a rather desirable position, which he took advantage of immediately. He ran his hands over them first, his long fingers feathering over the tips of her nipples, barely touching.

Hermione drew in a breath as his hands teased, moving in tantalising circles, not quite touching where she wanted them to. Her eyes closed as she tilted her head slightly back, enjoying the slow movements. As such, she was taken by surprise when she felt the warm heat of his mouth on her neck, leaving a trail of kisses leading slowly down. His hands slid to her hips as his teeth grazed a nipple, causing her to buck. He drew the nipple in and started to suckle, enjoying the drawn out moan that left her lips. How could something feel so sensitive? Hermione felt the pressure begin to build within her once more, a slow heady feeling in the pit of her stomach.

She felt her professors fingers slide up her thighs, slowly pushing them further apart as he moved his attention to her other breast. She found her own hands on his shoulders, involuntarily digging her fingers in with the pleasure of it all. His fingertips trailed further up, up, up, until they were there. She bit her lip as she felt them ghosting over the entrance before one slipped in. She heard Snape groan for the first time.

"Fuck you're wet girl, so wet." The huskiness of his voice and the raw emotion behind it nearly sent her over the edge again. As it was Snape felt her clench around his finger, causing him to groan again. He slipped in a second, moving them about before flicking his thumb across the nexus of her nerves. Enjoying the way she shuddered, he slowly pushed her shoulder back with his free hand, forcing her to lay flat on the desk. Scores of unmarked scrolls fell to the floor unnoticed as Hermione spread her arms out above her head, thrilled with the feelings those beautiful long fingers were eliciting.

Snape paused to take in the vision before him, before removing his fingers. Ignoring her sudden noise of objection he hooked his hands behind her legs, pulling her across the desk until she was positioned just right. Dropping smoothly to his knees he replaced where his fingers once were with his mouth. Hermione squeaked. She had heard of this before, girls in the dormitory talked about it while discussing midnight fumbling, about how rare it was for their boyfriends to do. All the talk did absolutely no justice to the actual act. She should have known that a tongue that could produce a voice such as his would work just as well on other ministrations.

She found her legs trembling unbidden as he tasted her. Her fingers scrambled across the desktop, needing to grab onto something as his tongue massaged against a spot that was sending her nearly wild. Waves of pleasure were building within her, growing harder and closer with every second. Her head fell back and her mouth open as her body reached the top, only to cry out in frustration when Snape pulled back. She looked at him with accusing eyes before she realised what he was doing. Snape's hands moved cloth aside and she gasped as she took in the sight of him. That's not going to fit at all.

Snape moved forward once more and settled between her legs. Hermione could feel the hardness of him, felt a nearly uncontrollable desire to have him now. He positioned himself at her entrance and caught her eye.

"This will hurt for a moment. It will get better." And with that he thrust, sheathing himself completely to the hilt in one movement. Hermione felt a white hot flash of pain chase away all feelings of pleasure and cried out. Snape caught the cry with a kiss, slow and almost tender as he kept himself still. He brushed sweat streaked hair away from her face as he gave her the time to adjust to the invasion. As he waited he began to whisper in her ear, about how maybe she could find herself in more night detentions with him. About how he thought she looked in those ridiculous school skirts the girls had to wear. About how he would like to see her in that skirt bent over desk in front of him.

Listening to his smooth voice caused the warmth to start building within her once more. Imaging herself bent over her professors desk, presented in such a shameful way, she felt herself starting to loosen. As she adjusted to the girth of him, Snape slowly began to rock his hips back and forward. She gave out a startled "oh" when he hit something just right inside of her. Noting the angle, Snape moved his hips slightly before thrusting in with more force. Hermione groaned as an electric current shot through her body. He began to move in earnest, thrusting harder and faster until he had a rhythm that nearly sent Hermione crazy. Every push hit against that spot, and it wasn't long before she was being swamped with waves of pleasure. Again and again he rocked as she hooked her legs around his back, trying to pull him even deeper. She was nearly there, teetering right in the edge of release when he moved his hand to the top of her sex, rubbing his thumb on just the right spot.

"I want you to come for me Granger." And with that command she tipped over the edge, screaming his name in a haze of pleasure as wave after wave of shock coursed through her body. She felt her professors release moments after her own started, and smiled as he groaned and fell upon her. A sense of utter fulfilment settled around her.

They lay there a moment, completely spent and strangely comfortable, before Snape eased himself out of her and stepped back. Gathering his wand he performed a quick cleansing charm on himself before, to Hermione's surprise, casting one on her as well. He then walked to a cupboard placed along the wall and removed a small glass jar.

"There will be some tenderness. Apply this tonight and once more in the morning." He left the jar on the desk besides her and walked back to his chair, settling his black robes about his lithe form as he sat once more.

Hermione noted the silent dismissal and gathered her wits about her. Sliding rather ungracefully from the desk, she cast an unspoken spell to summon her clothes and dressed somewhat stiffly. Just about everything hurt, but she found she didn't mind at all. She scooped up the glass jar with a quiet thank you, not quite able to meet her professors eye. As she adjusted her robe and headed towards the door, Snape's languid voice rolled out behind her. "And Miss Granger? Ten points from Gryffindor."

"WHAT?" Hermione spun, eyes blazing and a look of indignation set upon her face. "What the bloody hell for!"

A positively evil smirk played its way across his face, "For seducing a teacher."

Her mouth fell open, then snapped shut as she pivoted and stalked out of the room, not even caring that the dungeon door slammed shut behind her. So what if he thought the act was childish, she was never going to speak to the bastard again.

Until Monday that was, when she very much accidentally melted her cauldron, and found herself with night time detention.

 **AN** : And we're done! A rather short last chapter as I don't have the writing skill to drag a sex scene out any longer. I hope it's a good enough ending, it's the first hanky panky I've ever written I have another story I'm thinking of doing, a longer one, so keep an eye out for it. Thank you for all the lovely reviews, I really do appreciate them


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